


Mayhem on a Cross - A post ep continuation fic

by serendipityxxi



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, Mentions of suicide attempt, post ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:25:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipityxxi/pseuds/serendipityxxi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post ep for Mayhem on a Cross - Booth talks about how his grandfather saved his life when he was a kid.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“He... I...,” he’d never told anyone this story, not Rebecca, not Cam, no one. No one had ever asked. Technically Bones hadn’t either, but she was standing there, holding his hand, waiting for him to say something. He was always asking her to open up; he owed it to her to tell her this story.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Mayhem on a Cross - A post ep continuation fic

The door closed on the shrinks (heh, not a bad band name, Booth thought) with a dull thud and a lot of grateful sighing on Booth's part. He'd enjoyed Wyatt's cooking immensely and Sweets had even stopped being awkward and eager to please under Wyatt's influence, but it was a relief to shut the door on the outside world and just be alone with Bones.

She was standing with her back to him, facing the sink. The water flowed in a rush, steam rising from the basin as Bones set what looked like every pot, pan, measuring cup and spoon Booth owned - and a few he was sure Wyatt had brought over - into the sink. She glanced at him over her shoulder, those eyes that captivated him so were wary. She was obviously waiting for him to make some comment on the story she'd shared now that they were alone. Booth was in fact tempted to press but the tears she’d fought earlier and the desperate way she'd turned to his history, clearly showing that she didn’t want to make a big deal of her confession were enough to make him tread lightly.  
  
He snaked his arm around her and stole the bottle of dishwashing liquid from its perch. He upended the bottle, giving a liberal squirt into the water.  
  
"Booth! It wasn't full yet," she scolded. They both watched as bubbles bloomed in the sink, swiftly rising higher and higher.  
  
Booth gave her a shrug and half a charm smile as he flicked the cold tap open a little wider then replaced the dishwashing liquid bottle. "Where's the fun without the bubbles, Bones?" he teased.  
  
She rolled her eyes at him but he was pleased to see the hesitation in her eyes dissipate a little.  
  
"I'll wash, you dry?" he suggested, bumping her hip with his own to edge her out of the way.  
  
Bones rolled her eyes outright at that. "I'm fine, Booth."  
  
"Who said you weren't?" he asked, his expression all innocence.  
  
She scowled but it slowly faded as she decided perhaps he was serious.

Booth didn't like lying to Bones, but he also didn't want her to run away because things were too intense. Instead he directed his attention to the sink and washed the first plate, handing it to her for drying. She took it and with swift, economical movements dried the dish. They settled into a rhythm after a time, Booth washing, Bones drying. It was nice, comfortable, working with his partner at the end of the day. Bones upended a glass to get the water out of the bottom and splashed Booth’s forearms, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Hey!” he flicked a little water at her in return.

“Booth!” she protested but there was laughter in her voice. She reached into the sink and flung more droplets his way.

“Bones!” he drew her name out, mock outraged as he cupped his hand in the warm soapy water and let it fly. Her eyes went wide and then she made a grab for the sprayer, Booth fought her for it, laughter and water splashing around his kitchen in the quiet night. Bones was wily, and slippery, and got in a few good shots with the spray nozzle that left him spluttering before Booth managed to get behind her, holding her wrists and the sprayer pointed away from them. She angled it up and shot a stream of water at the ceiling that had him dropping her arms.

“You can’t do that! They’ll get me for water damage!” he protested.

“That would be terrible,” she teased and shot him full in the face with the sprayer.

 Booth gasped and reached blindly for her, slipped in the puddle they’d created and took her down with him. They cracked to the floor in a mix of elbows and knees, the nozzle spraying wildly around the kitchen without any guidance. Booth lay very still. He felt Bones start to shake beside him. When he realized she wasn’t hurt but was laughing quietly to herself, a grin spread over his own face and he started to chuckle as well. They laughed there on the wet floor until their sides ached, ‘til tears ran down her cheeks and Booth was sure his neighbor downstairs must be flooded.

 They quieted slowly, giggles tapering off like a stream of bubbles blown under water. Booth became very aware of how close they were tangled together, her warm side pressed into his front, her head resting on his outstretched arm. She turned her face to his and Booth felt his smile grow. He loved seeing her like this, carefree and in the moment. It had surprised him so much at first that she could be like this and he relished each time he could encourage her to let go. Bones grinned back at him, her face flushed, hair plastered to the side of her head, eyes all lit up. Her gaze slipped from his eyes to his mouth and Booth felt something inside him tighten. He watched as her pink tongue slipped out and wet her lips. When he brought his eyes back to hers the blue had darkened.

He held his breath for a moment but instead she got to her feet carefully and then surprised him again by reaching out her hands to help him up. He took both her slender wrists and allowed her to haul him off the floor, not enjoying the feel of cold, wet denim that clung to his legs now that he was aware of it. Bones’ smile was unsure and shy as she looked at him from under damp lashes and Booth could barely resist leaning over to kiss her in that moment. He slowly released her, dragging his fingers across the smooth skin on the inside of her arms as they let go. She kept her hold on his wrists though, her index and thumb could barely encircle them. Her thumbs traced over the sensitive skin of his wrists, in what could only be called a caress, that totally distracted Booth from the discomfort of the wet denim he was wearing.

Bones’ fingers stuttered over his wrists and she looked down in askance at the small ridges of healed tissue on both arms. Booth looked down too, there were his tattoos as usual but he knew she could feel the raised scars beneath the tattoos, if you looked closely enough you could still see them. They were silent for long moments.

“Is this what you meant by your grandfather saved your life when you were a child, Booth?” she asked in her direct way, successfully guessing at the origin of the scars. Her voice though, was full of so much compassion and concern that Booth boggled that she could ever think she wasn’t good with matters of the heart. When he looked up her eyes were so sad, for him, it made him feel embarrassed that she’d discovered this weakness among his many others.

He didn’t answer at first. Instead he reached past her to turn off the faucet. With the water off the kitchen felt incredibly silent. Bones said nothing, just looked at him with those huge eyes and like earlier Booth found himself speaking without meaning to.

“He... I...,” he’d never told anyone this story, not Rebecca, not Cam, no one. No one had ever asked. Technically Bones hadn’t either, but she was standing there, holding his hand, waiting for him to say something. He was always asking her to open up; he owed it to her to tell her this story. But how could he tell it to her? His dad drank, when he got drunk he got mean, when he got mean he beat on his kids, it was just what happened. Seeley took the blows so Jared wouldn’t. Jared was smaller, weaker, Seeley was strong, he could handle it. Except Jared didn’t think so, Jared thought he was weak for just standing there and taking it. Maybe if Seeley had done something before then Mom... Well it had been lucky for Jared they’d been interrupted. But Seeley had brooded about that all afternoon and well into the evening.

“My dad... he came home one night and instead of being good old Seeley the punching bag I didn’t take it. I hit him back. And it felt good Bones, really good,” Booth confessed. “So I hit him again. And again, and again until I couldn’t even see straight. The only reason I stopped was because Jared had called Pops and he showed up. My old man, he never looked small to me before that night. But lying on that floor bruised and bloody, he looked small and old and worthless,” Booth swore the last word, the way it had been hurled at him time and again before that night.

“It wasn’t til later when I was icing my knuckles and Pops had wrapped my ribs that I realized what I’d done. I was as bad as my old man, I hit and hit not to make him stop but because it felt good, because I had the **advantage**. It made me sick that I could be like him. He never came back. I felt like a monster. Jared looked scared all the time, Pops was so sad and all I could think was how it was my fault,” Booth looked down at her deft fingers wrapped so tightly around his wrist, as if she could go back and stop the blood that had poured past the old scar tissue from ever spilling. He felt a surge of love for his partner.

_The old fashioned straight razor that Joe shaved with every morning had glinted in the light of the bathroom when Seeley turned his head. He’d thought of his mom. He’d turned the blade over in fingers that shook. He’d been so young then. He’d had no idea what he was really doing. All he’d known was that he wanted everything to stop. The first slice hardly hurt, it stung after a moment and the red welled up, spilling out over his palm, between his fingers. The second wrist was harder, his left hand slippery and sticky with the blood. He put his head back against the tub when he was finished and waited. The world went static-y after a while, like a TV station without service, snow creeping in on the edges of his vision ‘til it overtook his whole view. When he woke again he was in the hospital, Pops at his bedside, Jared in the waiting room. His dad had been gone for three weeks by then. “There's nothing wrong with protecting your family, Shrimp. I'm just sorry you had to be the one to do it," Pops had said and ignored him when he tried to interrupt, just fixed him with that serious stare that meant be quiet and listen. "There's a difference between stopping someone from hurting another person and beating on someone to make yourself feel bigger. If you don’t want to be that man then you make that choice Seeley. You make the choice but you don’t get to run away from your battles. You stand like a man and face them.” Pops had never sounded so fierce as he spoke those words._

“Pops found me after I did this, told me I could choose to become my father or I could try and be a better man but running away like a coward would guarantee I’d never succeed,” he shrugged then.

“You are the better man, Booth,” Bones’ voice was quiet, but sure. “I’ve never seen you take advantage of a situation like that, take pleasure in causing another person pain. I have seen you display compassion time and again, sacrificing yourself to protect others, to protect me...” When Booth looked up again her eyes were filled with tears, for him, tears he didn’t deserve. He looked away, unable to stand hearing those words from her. But Bones would not be denied. She put her hand on his jaw and turned his face back to hers. “You’re a good, courageous man, Seeley Booth,” she told him in that fact stating tone she had and rose on her toes to kiss him softly on the cheek. Her left thumb stroked across the skin of his wrist, making him shiver.

They both looked down at his wrist still in her hands.

Booth cleared his throat.  “When I was over in Japan with Nak I got the tattoos, not to cover up the scars,” he clarified, “but to remind myself that I was past that. I wasn’t that scared kid anymore.”

Bones nodded.

“Soul and destiny,” she read off his wrists, admiring the clean lines of the ink there. She resisted tracing the faint lines of the scars she could now see, scars that would not have shown on his bones, a story she would never have known if not for the soft words Booth spoke.

 “Destiny because I make my own,” he shook his right wrist a little “and soul to remind me what I’m fighting for,” and then his left.  He lifted his gaze to meet hers, determination tensing his jaw. “I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life Bones, I don’t think my cosmic balance sheet will ever be even but I am going to keep trying." 

“And I still would like to help you with that,” she replied, her eyes were soft but her tone was as resolute as his.

He smiled at her, so incredibly grateful for this stubborn, rational, brilliant squint who’d badgered her way into his life. “You do, Bones,” he assured her. “Every day you do.”

She smiled too, warm and pleased. “You are a better man than you think you are, Booth,” she told him fervently, as if she really believed what she was saying, “and your deity if he is as omniscient as you believe can see that as plainly as I can.”

She squeezed his hand as he had done for her countless times. It meant comfort and reassurance to her when Booth did that, she hoped it meant the same thing for him too. There was something hopeful in his dark eyes again as they held her gaze. It was an intimate moment, more so than any sexual act had ever created for Brennan. She had had many of them with Seeley Joseph Booth but few where they were both laid so bare. And because Booth had been honest, Brennan was too.

She let go of his wrists and moved in to hug him tightly. “I’m glad you were not successful,” she whispered in his ear. “I am grateful to have you in my life,” she told him. 

Booth’s answer was to wrap his own arms around her in return, “I’m glad to be here too, Bones,” he replied, voice rough with emotion. “I’m glad to be here too.”


End file.
